The Architect - Chapter 1
The middle chapter of this neat little short story. I really hope you have got this far. This one is going to blow your mind. Literally gives my goose bumps every time I read this chapter. I'm excited for you. Remember this should be the last chapter you are reading in the architect as this is a non-linear story. :-) Wes. The Architect - Chapter 1 The once vibrant and welcoming little village that had stood for generations was decaying. The sky had darkened and the clear refreshing winds had turned in to low lying fog. The soil once fertile had grown stagnant, putrid and soggy. The last of the crops were dying. It was hard to believe that only a week before this place was still a Haven to many far and wide across Albion. What had changed? The villagers had already started to leave for other villages and towns. People who were renting properties were packing up and moving on. Unfortunately for the poor villagers who had lived in and owned cottages in the village their only option was to stay. “It’s just a temporary thing…” was often overhead in casual conversations around the village. The old woman knew different though. It wasn’t a temporary thing. It was only the start of the process. She knew that after the land died and the villages moved out the terrors that a wait would move in. She needed to warn her young son. She needed to get him out. She had been crawling and climbing, walking and stumbling for days. She had finally made it out of the cavern and towards the village. Not far now. I need to stay focused. The old woman’s bones ached as she made her way towards their cottage. The night was cold and hazy. She felt the cold more now then before. It felt as though it penetrated her bones. It made her shiver while she paced on slowly on. I’m not sure how long I’m going to last. If I can just warn him and tell him to leave this place…. As she made her way to the gate her right ankle give out and she stumbled to the floor in pain. She started to cry in frustration and cried out “Come on…why? why….did this happen to me?..” “You’re special. You’re the first. I will always remember that.” That’s what he said afterwards. That vile man. The thought of it sickened her down in her stomach. She took a minute to gather some of her remaining energy. Previously she always had lots of energy before he changed her. Her anger fuelled her aching limbs to drive her back onto her feet and complete the remaining stretch of her journey. As she reached the front door she caught her reflection in a near by window. The old withered woman looking back at her made her wretch. “HOW?” she shouted. She felt her knees go weak and then she fell on the door step. “Mother?” came the voice of a young man. The young man put the pen down that he was using to write in his diary. He always kept a diary ever since he was a young child. “Is that you mother? Where have you been for this past week? I’ve been so worried.” The young man got to the front door to discover the old woman laying on the steps. He picked her up and placed her on a chair just inside the entrance if the cottage. At first he didn’t recognise the old woman. It was only when she spoke. “Terrance, my lovely young man. You need to…” The man was shocked. “MOTHER? What happened to you?” The old woman’s voice was now a whisper. “I don’t have long son. Please you must…..try….” The man was now hysterical crying and hugging the old woman in the chair. “I don’t understand, what happened? Who did this? Was it a spell mother? Did you cast a spell? Did you get a spell from one of your special books?? Please mother! Tell me I will make it right.” He hugged the woman tighter. He looked at the woman her face in his hands “Mother what do I need to do? Tell me?” “Son………. you need………. to….” Her voice faded away. Her eyes were left open fixated on his. “Mother?......Mother???? MOTHER????NOOOOOO” He shock the old woman. He cried. he punched a nearby pillar. The woman had gone. The man through angry gritted teeth mumbled. “I must. I must make this OK mother…..Your books. I will make it right with your books. You can’t leave me mother who will watch over me?” The man frantically ran upstairs to his mother’s room and broke the lock to her closet where she kept her secret books. Yes the powerful spell books. This will make it all better. “I wont lose you mother. I need you!!” he screamed into the darkness of the room. “You must never read the books Terrence.” A vague memory of his mother entered his head. He picked up a book and for a moment contemplated reading it. He knelt on the floor and realized he was too scared. Without his mother he was nothing. Had nothing. He knelt there crying for hours and hours. He awoke the next day still holding a random book. He placed the book on his bed as he plunked up the courage to go downstairs. The corpse was peaceful. Still sat in the chair. Eyes open. He went over to to his mother and closed her eye lids. She felt cold. Lifeless. It still shocked him how old she looked. How? How did it happen? As he dug the grave he noticed that his hands were bleeding through the blisters that had formed from the old spade handle. He didn’t feel it though. He was numb. He wasn’t anything anymore. He placed his mothers corpse in the grave and covered her over with soil. He sat on the mound weeping for two days before going into the cottage for water. Weeks past like a clock ticking. He felt every single second every single painful thought that his mother was dead and he’d done nothing about it. I haven’t even left the house haven’t told anyone. But then I don’t have anyone. No family, no friends no mother… He fell asleep crying again. He woke in the night in a cold sweet. He dreamt that his mother was dying again and that she had said “You need to use my spells to save me” before she died. Of course he could never have known what she was going to say but he decided that he needed to do something….. anything. He felt under his bed for the spell book he’d placed there the night she died. As he read the pages out loud he didn’t feel like he was practicing magic or if anything was happening at all. He placed the spell book down and for the first time in weeks got his diary out and updated it with recent events. Suddenly he heard a loud banging sound from outside his window. That sounds like our gate. He made his way out the back of the cottage to find indeed that the gate had been opened. How strange. Beyond the gate he noticed a small opening that he had never noticed before. It seemed to have materialized out of no where. As he made his way into the cavern he could feel his loneliness leaving him. Every cell in his body was telling him to go deeper into the cavern. As he entered the cavern he felt safer. It felt like home. There was a strange blue light that lit the cavern which made him feel calm.” “Is there anyone there?” he said into the cavern. “We will watch over you” The large figure said who was stood in front of him. His voice sounded like a child’s and an old mans mixed together somehow. It wasn’t heard it was felt…. “You will?...My….Mother….she….” the young man wanted to tell him everything He could tell that he was kind and he was going to look after him. “We will all watch over you” a group of them said. The young man noticed that there were more of them now. With each new figure he counted in the cavern the better he felt. “Thank you all....My mother…” he was interrupted. “We will watch over all of them” the figure said. “Over who? The villagers? That would be so kind of you. They have been having terrible things happen to them recently. Maybe you could help them fix their problems? You are so kind. Thank you. Can you help mother?” the young man was smirking and excited. “We will watch over all of them” all the figures seem to say at the same time. The young man hadn’t felt so happy in weeks. It was a relief. He knew that they were here to help him. As he left the cavern he noticed that they were already outside. They wanted to watch him make sure he didn’t trip over near the rocks. As he made his way into the cottage he noticed they were already in the house. Arranged neatly around the first floor. They wanted to ensure that he was OK. As he made his way up to his bedroom he felt so happy that he was been watched. He lay in his bed. Clutching his diary. The figures joined him. Making sure that he was alright. Just watching him write in his diary. Just watching him sleep.